


What Lurks Within

by SooSooDyo (Phinphin)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Dark, Ghost Hunting, Haunted Houses, Horror, M/M, Psychological Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-06-28 06:36:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19806730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phinphin/pseuds/SooSooDyo
Summary: Sometimes, haunted houses are best left unexplored





	What Lurks Within

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for the wonderful prompt prompter! It had my horror loving mind spinning like crazy from the first moment I saw it! I hope this is at least close to what you imagined! 
> 
> Please enjoy!

The mansion is...underwhelming if Kyungsoo are to choose a word for it. It’s located at the end of a cul-de-sac and although the mansion itself is clearly abandoned since long ago, if the overgrown hedges and broken windows are anything to go by, the houses lining the street are all lived in.

It has all the right elements to be creepy, the tall gates stretching high above their heads, the red brick almost completely overgrown by poison ivy, the design that reminds Kyungsoo just a tad bit too much about an old asylum, but all in all it ends up just looking sort of sad. He can clearly imagine that it was a well-loved house at one point, that it was just as bustling and full of life as the garden party they passed a few streets down. And now it’s just all broken and sad and dead.

“Are you sure this is the right place?” He says, turning to look at Yixing.

“Of course! Just look at it! It’s 100% haunted for sure.” Yixing says with a grin, hoisting his backpack further up on his shoulders. “They say there is this demon haunting it, and that at night you can see it through the windows. No one has been able to snap a picture of it yet, but we’re going to be first ones.”

“Who are ‘they’?” Kyungsoo asks, holding back the urge to roll his eyes. This isn’t the first time they’ve done something like this. And it certainly isn’t the first time Yixing has told him a ‘true story’ almost identical to the one he just that most certainly is nothing more than a tale told during middle school sleepovers.

“The internet.” Yixing says, looking around before breaking into sprint. With a leap he steps up on the brick foundation of the fence and pushes up, hands grabbing the top of the fence as he hauls himself over and drops down on the other side. He ends the whole ordeal with a small somersault, looking incredibly pleased with himself.

This time Kyungsoo actually rolls his eyes but chooses to say nothing. Instead he just steps up to the gate and tries the old padlock. It opens easily after a few yanks and soon he’s joined Yixing on the other side of the fence.

“You’re no fun. Live a little Kyungie.” Yixing says, walking up to Kyungsoo with a broad grin.

“Spending the night in an abandoned mansion is enough excitement for me for one night, thank you.” Kyungsoo replies, a smile playing on his own lips. Yixing laughs, quickly bending forward to steal a kiss from the younger’s lips before turning toward the mansion and practically skipping up the long driveway.

This sort of thing is something they do fairly often. Yixing finds a supposed ‘haunted’ place online and Kyungsoo goes with him, mostly to make sure the other doesn’t get hurt, but if he also happens to be a little too curious for his own good so what? Sue him. It’s one of his last summer breaks before he gets his degree and has to spend all his future summers working and he just wants to screw around a little.

The worst thing they have found so far has been the partly decayed remains of a stray cat that had hidden away in a basement and died. It had sucked, hard, but other than that there has been nothing even close to ‘supernatural’. Some creaking floorboards for sure, and a door or two slamming and scaring the shit out of them, but nothing that can’t be easily explained by the fact that they’re hanging out in old, abandoned houses.

Kyungsoo expects tonight will bring nothing different, and hopefully he’ll be able to drag Yixing away from the mansion before it gets too late. He’s been wanting to check out hereditary for the longest time and he feels like tonight would be a perfect night for the movie.

“So, what’s the plan?” He asks as he falls in step with Yixing, having had to jog to catch up to the other’s excited steps.

“Go inside, find the demon, snap a pic and tweet it.” Yixing says and Kyungsoo lets out a laugh, pinching his boyfriend in the side.

“The usual then.” He states and Yixing gives him a nod, slowing down a little as he takes in the large building in front of them. It’s much bigger up close, and much taller. As Kyungsoo looks up the building seems to grow, stretching up, up and above him. For a moment, it almost feels as if it’s about to topple over on top of them.

He casts a quick look behind himself, realizing the dense shrubbery and overgrown trees obscure most of the cul-de-sac they left behind. The golden street lights barely penetrate through the thick branches and the only light they have left is that of the quickly setting sun.

When he turns back toward the mansion the windows seem much darker than they had done before. He shakes his head. It’s just the pent-up excitement. It’s always like this when they first approach a house. The thrill of it all makes their minds play tricks on them. He knows that soon, once they’ve passed through room after room covered in dust and found nothing the creeping feeling at the back of his neck will disappear.

“Come on Kyungsoo.” Yixing calls, having already reached the stairs leading up to the front door. Kyungsoo breaks out into a slow jog, catching up as Yixing climbs the stairs and bends down in front of the old door. He’s not quite as good at lockpicking as Baekhyun, but he’s good enough to get the job done.

The foyer is enormous. There is a grand staircase in the middle of it leading up to the second-floor wings stretching all around the room. There are several doors on either side of the room, leading deeper into the mansion.

Kyungsoo lets out a breathy laugh, eyes wandering the room. It’s beautiful, polished woods and wallpapers in rich colours. Absently he pulls his backpack off his back and sticks a hand inside, looking for his flashlight so he can take a closer look.

More details appear as their lights click on, dancing along the ceiling with the large hook for a chandelier, long since taken down, square patches of wallpaper lighter than the rest where portraits used to hang, an old sculpture that for some reason got left behind in the move.

“It’s just like-”

“Sound of music.” Yixing says at the same time as Kyungsoo say “Resident evil”. The two of them look over at each other, sharing a look, before bursting out into giggles.

“Let’s start on the upper floor.” Yixing says, reaching out a hand for Kyungsoo, who happily take it, and together they climb the grand staircase, taking the right exit.

There are three doors lining the right sight of the landing, all of them identical, and when Yixing approaches the first one, Kyungsoo can feel the familiar thrill of fright clenching in his stomach. His boyfriend lays a hand on the door handle, looking over at Kyungsoo with wide eyes.

“What if the demon’s in there?” He whispers, eyebrows raising. Kyungsoo rolls his eyes, giving the other a punch in the arm that has him breaking down into nervous little giggles.

“They’re never in the first room. How boring would that be?” He whispers back, gesturing for Yixing to open the door. Still, despite his words, he can’t help but grip his flashlight tighter. Fighting the urge to turn around, to make sure nothing is hanging over his back, he watches as Yixing slowly turn the handle.

The room seems to sigh as he pushes the door open, sucking in air. Kyungsoo shivers, his heart speeding up in his chest, but his hand is steady as he shines his flashlight around the room. It’s a bedroom, still furnished.

There is a large bed with canopy in the middle of the room, the moth-eaten fabric swaying slowly in the wind coming from the busted window. A dressing table with a cracked mirror is pushed up to one of the walls, a large wardrobe next to it.

“Woah!” Yixing gasps as he steps inside, spinning inside the room. Kyungsoo joins him, letting his fingers run along the bedspread. It’s slightly sticky, mould, dust and moisture having come together. He pulls a face, wiping his hand off on his jeans and making a mental note not to touch anything else.

“They just left this room furnished?” Kyungsoo questions as Yixing pulls open the wardrobe, revealing a handful of old nightgowns and a coat inside.

“They probably just abandoned it all. Maybe the last owner died and no one bothered to deal with it.” Yixing suggests, pulling up his camera to snap a picture of the old bed. Kyungsoo hum’s, frowning. That doesn’t feel right. He takes another look around the room before he steps out again, leaning over the railing and looking down at the foyer.

“They emptied the foyer.” Kyungsoo calls back into the room. Yixing turns to him, camera raised, and snaps a picture. Kyungsoo makes sure to pull his best ‘I’m bored’ face.

“Maybe they just forgot it?” Yixing says, joining him on the landing and looking down at the foyer. It somehow looks even bigger from up here, the wooden floor stretching wide. There is only one other door on the opposite landing, and two on the entry floor. One of the doors are open, leading into impenetrable darkness.

He can’t remember if it was open when they entered the place or not.

“Maybe...” He mumbles, shaking his head. It’s just his mind, playing tricks on him. They’re alone. No one could have opened the door except for them so it had to have been opened when they entered. “Let’s check out the next one.”

Yixing happily obliges, opening the next door equally as slowly. There is another bedroom behind it, this one also furnished, but instead of one big bed there are two small ones, and a toy box instead of a dressing table.

Kyungsoo stays by the door as Yixing takes picture after picture of the abandoned toys, delighting in how “creepy looking” they are. Kyungsoo agrees. There is something about seeing toys abandoned mid play, a wood car, a metal train having fallen off its tracks, and of course a porcelain doll staring back at him. But it’s not something they haven’t seen before, and just like the building, Kyungsoo just finds it a tad bit sad.

Something must have happened for them to have been abandoned like that, mid play. Unless someone else had had the same bright idea as them and set them up like that. He knows a lot of the creepy photos that exists out there are staged, set up by people wanting more clicks and more attention.

He knows that, but still it works.

As Yixing crouches down, snapping a picture of the two beds, he gives in to the urge to cast a look behind himself. The landing is just as empty as last time he looked, the house just as dead. Kyungsoo draws a deep breath, telling himself he’s just being silly. Yixing is not even scared, and he’s the scaredy cat between the two of them. He’s just working himself up over nothing.

“Getting any good shots?” He asks, distracting himself from the pricking feeling of eyes on the back of his neck.

“Yupp!” Yixing stands up, looking down at the preview on his camera with a grin. “Can’t wait to post these.” He says, holding out the camera for Kyungsoo to see. Kyungsoo steps forward, looking at the picture. Something about the frog perspective truly makes the otherwise quite unassuming beds seem like they’re coming straight from the set of a horror movie.

Yixing runs a twitter where he posts pictures of abandoned buildings, along with cryptids and accounts of ‘real’ encounters with ghosts or demons. He’s always been into that sort of thing, the whole supernatural side of things. He believes in it, almost religiously, and while accepting that not everything is a ghost, he also holds onto the belief that anything _could_ be a ghost, or a demon, or bigfoot.

‘Science just can’t explain it right now’ He often tells Kyungsoo as the other brushes away another picture of an orb or the like. The optimism always makes Kyungsoo smile, and although he himself is as far from a believer as one can get, he still enjoys listening to Yixing’s many explanations and stories.

Kyungsoo’s big interest in the occult comes from horror movies and games. He enjoys being scared, but a large part of the enjoyment comes from the fact that he knows it’s not real. There is nothing quite like feeling your heart hammering in your chest, your entire being frozen in horror as you just can’t look away from the tv screen, but knowing that the danger would never affect him.

Walking through these abandoned houses almost gives him the same thrill. Not quite, because unlike movies and games where the story is designed to constantly be ramping up the excitement, the opposite happens during their explorations. The beginning his the most exciting, delicious adrenaline surging through him as his mind creates things that aren’t there, delighted screams of thrill as the old house croaks, that prickling feeling at the back of his neck. But without new input, the sensations quickly dull.

Still. It’s a better date than going to the mall.

They continue on with the next room, finding it just as untouched as the other ones. It looks more like a servants’ quarters, with several beds pushed tight and drawers lining the wall. Kyungsoo spends a good few minutes teasing Yixing by constantly moving in whatever picture the other tries to take, teasing him that he can say the blurry figure is a ghost.

It’s not until Yixing threatens to not follow Kyungsoo back home after they’re done exploring that he stops. He might not be a believer of the occult, and he would never admit to it, but when he’s laying alone in his bed at night the dark corners of his room just seem to hide that many more horrors than they did when the lights were on. Having Yixing there to chase the goose bumps away just makes sleeping that much more relaxing.

That, and he just loves curling up next to Yixing late at night. 

They decide to move onto the other side of the landing next, Yixing excitedly showing Kyungsoo the best shots he got of the different bedrooms while Kyungsoo lets his flashlight dance over the walls. He imagines how the house must have looked at its prime, the large chandelier lighting up the grand foyer, the lush carpet that covered the white stone steps, the clicking of servants’ shoes as they rushed over the polished mosaic parquet floors.

The twinge of sadness aches in his chest again. So many of the buildings they have visited together have met a fate similar to this one. The only reason they’re called haunted is because no one took care of them, no one made sure to keep the building alive. And while Kyungsoo doesn’t particularly care for preserving the past, it is still with a melancholy heart he thinks of what could have been, if the house had been given a second chance.

“Hey.” Yixing elbows him lightly in the side, making Kyungsoo tear his eyes away from the entrance. “When we get married, I’ll buy you an old haunted house, and then you can clean all the floors and make it all pretty again.” He promises with a teasing smile.

Kyungsoo rolls his eyes, pushing past his idiotic boyfriend and walking up to the only door on this landing.

“You coming or not?” He calls back, making Yixing laugh and jog up to him, the elder quickly pressing a kiss to Kyungsoo’s cheek.

“Ready?” He says, eyebrows raising. Kyungsoo rolls his eyes again, but can’t stop a smile from breaking out on his face.

“Ready.” He echoes, grabbing one of the handles. It’s a double door, stales and rails decorating the frame, and when they push it open Kyungsoo can feel a distinct weight to the doors that tells him they’re almost entirely made out of solid wood.

He gasps.

A large library in two stories stretch out in front of them. They’re on the upper landing, the walls all around them lined with bookshelves, most of them still full. On the bottom floor heavy book shelves, all of the emptied, stretch up toward them. The upper landing stretch around the whole library, spiral stairs on either side of the room leading down to the bottom floor. In the corners the landing is thicker, and the bookshelves have been removed, providing just enough room for an armchair and small side table.

“Fuuuuck.” Yixing breathes, shining his light over the large room. One of the chandeliers, the middle one, is still there, and as the light from Yixing’s flashlight hits it it sends tiny reflections dancing along the room.

“Do that again.” Kyungsoo says, taking the camera and raising it. They snap a few pictures of the library, trying to capture the magic feeling of it, before moving on toward one of the stairs. The landing croaks as they walk, and for a moment Kyungsoo fears the old wooden beams will break under their weight. But they make it down unscathed.

The library is just as beautiful from down below as it is from above, the landing giving an air of nobility to the whole room. There are small plaques screwed into the side of the shelves standing in the middle of the room, ordering them alphabetically, and attached to the underside of the landings hangs small signs labelling the bookshelves lining the walls according to subject.

“They only emptied the bottom floor.” Kyungsoo whispers as he flips open one of the rare few books having been left behind. The pages are yellow and mouldy inside, and as he tries to flip them too they crumble in his hands.

“Odd.” Yixing whispers back, looking up at the landing above them. Kyungsoo follows, turning slowly in a circle as he takes note of how there is not even one shelf emptied on the top floor. It makes the uneasy feeling return to his stomach. What could possibly have made them leave so much behind, and why the weird selection?

It’s almost as if the top floor is still inhabited. The toys being played with, the beds being slept in, the books being read. It’s almost as if, when Kyungsoo shines his light over the double doors they left open, there would be someone standing there, observing the two of them.

There isn’t. But Kyungsoo still lets his light linger, still needs to take many long, long seconds to convince himself that there isn’t anyone waiting just outside the beam of light, there won’t be someone filling that space the moment he pulls his light away.

Next to him Yixing has also stilled, his light shining back and forth over the shelves in the middle of the library. You can’t see past them from where they’re standing. They’re far too tall, far too big. Anyone could be hiding just out of sight.

“Let’s go.” Kyungsoo whispers, forcing himself to look away from the landing. It’s nothing. It’s just his mind playing tricks on him, like it does late at night and he thinks he can see something moving from the corner of his mind. It’s just him, and his stupid all-nighters playing the resident evil remake and trying to hide from Mr. X. It’s nothing. It always is. It _always_ is.

Yixing takes his outstretched hand, and together they walk toward the double doors leading out of the library, neither of them acknowledging that they’re walking slightly too quickly for it to be natural.

The empty foyer feels almost comforting as they step out into it, the moonlight shining in through the many windows bathing it in silver light. The heavy doors fall shut with a thud behind them, and at once the eerie feeling disappears, hidden away among the old books and dusty shelves.

“Wanna continue?” Kyungsoo asks, clearing his throat to shake the hoarseness from all the whispering out of his voice. They never whisper. They don’t need to. They’re alone. It’s stupid to whisper. It’s stupid to act as if they need to hide.

“Yeah. Sure. Yeah.” Yixing nods, a shiver running through him before he too gives a cough, seeming to shake away the lingering tension that rests on his shoulders. “If that’s cool with you, that is.” He adds, looking over at Kyungsoo.

“Yeah, it can’t be much left. The house isn’t _that_ big. Would be a shame to quit now.” He says, braving a small smile. Yixing returns it, and finally the cold grip of fear around his chest is released.

  
“Come on then.” Yixing aims his flashlight on the doors on the opposite side of the foyer. There are three of them.

The first one leads to what they guess were the dining hall, or some sort of entertainment room, or possibly both. It’s hard to say without the furniture, but the fact that there is a door leading out to both a large deck on the backside of the house, and the small servant’s door leading into the kitchen, speaks of it having been important.

The floor is faded in places, creating outlines of the furniture that once stood there, and they spend a few minutes guessing what could have stood where the floor has been faded in the shape of a large hollow circle with a smaller circle in the middle, before Yixing figures out it must have been a mounted globe.

They move into the kitchen next. There is an old wood stove left behind, along with a large porcelain sink and the many counters lining the room. It looks almost functional, and Kyungsoo decides to stop that train of thought there before the prickling feeling at the back of his neck returns. It almost works. Almost.

The third door leads to a long corridor, which leads to what must have been the master bedroom. It has also been completely emptied, except for the heavy wood wardrobes that are still there. Unlike the ones on the second floor, there are no clothes inside though, which Yixing is only mildly disappointed by.

Most of the disappointment is due to the fact that the whole house has now been explored, and although it was a good hour and a half spent, they haven’t really found anything of note. If they were to stretch the truth maybe the toys could be a sign of the supernatural, along with the still furnished upper floor. But to say it is ‘proof’ that a ghost or demon lives in the house would be straight up lies.

He sighs, taking a final turn in the empty bedroom, before turning to Kyungsoo and gesturing toward the long corridor once again. Kyungsoo offers his hand, casting a final look around himself.

It was fun. It always is. But he has to admit that this time he’s relieved for it all to be over. He’s ready to leave this house behind, along with the feeling of being observed that itches along the back of his neck.

“I think people will like the library.” He forces himself to say.

“Yeah.” Yixing replies.

They don’t say anything else. Kyungsoo wishes he hadn’t brought up the library. The urge to turn around, to make sure that the someone who watched, no who he imagined watched them in the library isn’t behind them returns.

He doesn’t turn around, no matter how much he dearly wants to, no matter how much he can _feel_ it. The eyes behind him, the quiet breaths of air, the overwhelming feeling of _I’m not alone_. Because they’ve agreed not to spook the other, not to spur each other on if the other is freaked out, because that could lead to them being separated, and _that_ is truly dangerous.

Imaginary ghosts are not. Being alone in an unknown house is.

He squeezes the hand in his, Yixing squeezes back, and finally they exit back out into the foyer again.

Kyungsoo lets out a breath as he closes the door to the long corridor behind them. He could really go for a pizza right now, and an absurd amount of chips and dip. That, and some good old-fashioned horror that made his heart hammer in his chest, and goose bumps spread along his arms, but that he knew wasn’t real.

“Did we do that door?” Yixing asks.

Kyungsoo turns around and follows the light of Yixing’s flashlight. The open door the one he had spotted from the landing, looks back at him.

“No.” He says. It’s still open. Of course it is, they hadn’t closed it. But he’s still not sure if they opened it. None of the other doors in the house had been opened.

“Let’s go then.” Yixing says, but there is a moment of hesitation in his voice. Or maybe Kyungsoo just imagines it.

He doesn’t want to, he realizes. But Yixing wants to, and Yixing is the scaredy cat between the two of them, and as long as Yixing isn’t scared, there is nothing to worry about. Besides, even if Yixing were, it’s just a door. There is nothing in the house. _Nothing_. He has just allowed his imagination to run unchecked. That’s the only reason the thought of passing through that door fills him with trepidation.

“Let’s go.” He echoes as he forces himself to move, to take the lead. His flashlight is heavy in his hand as he raises it, shining into the darkness beyond the door.

It’s another corridor, mirroring the one they had just left. There are large windows lining it, the moonlight casting a silver glow on the wall. Unlike the last one where there had been a door leading into the kitchen about halfway through, the wall lining this corridor is just a smooth, long surface.

Much much longer than the other had been.

He steps inside. His flashlight isn’t strong enough to light up the end of the corridor. It must stretch around the entire library. Yixing steps in behind him, raising the camera to snap a photo. A small part of him can admit that there is beauty to the way the moonlight bathes the corridor in light, to the way the areas by the window are so bright and the areas in between are almost pitch black, but a larger part of him just wants to get this over with.

Slowly, they begin walking, Yixing snapping a few pictures of the view from the windows. Kyungsoo keeps his eyes trained on what’s in front of them, his flashlight held steady in his hand.

The corridor turns right at the end, before ending with a closed wooden door. There are two other doors here as well, one leading into the library, and another leading into an emptied servants’ quarters and bathroom. They just peak their heads inside the room, knowing what to expect by now, before they turn back toward the wooden door at the end of the corridor.

It’s unassuming. Just a door. It’s not locked, and when Kyungsoo tries the handle it almost swings open on its own.

Behind it is a staircase, leading downward into a cellar. It’s not deep, their flashlight hit the packed dirt floor with ease, but it seems so far away. It’s almost like stepping into water, to step down the stairs.

Cold spreads up his legs as he descends, and with each step he takes the resistance seems to grow, almost as if something is trying to keep him out of the cellar. The air is stuffy and hard to breathe, and with each inhale it seems to leave something behind inside his lungs, something that seems to seep into his blood and wrap itself around his guts, something telling him he should turn around.

But the staircase is narrow, and Yixing has already started stepping down the stairs behind him, so he forces himself to keep going.

The cellar room isn’t big, maybe the size of a large bedroom. It’s completely bare. Concrete walls, dirt floor, and nothing else. Not even a way to light it up. Kyungsoo slowly looks around the room, his breaths shallow as he struggles not to draw too much of whatever is lingering in the air into his lungs.

Yixing’s steps are almost silent as he steps down next to Kyungsoo, his flashlight dancing shakily around the walls. Kyungsoo can hear his breaths are as shallow as his own, an almost gasping panting that seems far too loud for the quiet cellar.

“Let’s leave.” He whispers, not waiting for an answer before he turns back around toward the stair case. He doesn’t need an answer. They both know they shouldn’t be here, that the sooner they leave the better, they both know this is beyond their mind playing tricks on them.

There is something wrong with the cellar. Something deeply, acutely wrong with it, and Kyungsoo does not want to stick around long enough to find out what it is.

Something tickles the back of his neck. Air, flowing into the cellar, shifting Yixing’s long bangs and tugging at their thin shirts. Their flashlights flicker, as if the air is taking the light with it along with any warmth still lingering inside Kyungsoo.

A second later the house groans, an obtuse shift of ancient woods, stone and mortar as the room seems to sigh around them.

Their lights cut out.

The pounding steps of Yixing sprinting up the stairs are drowned out by the pounding of blood in Kyungsoo’s ears, by the absolute and sheer terror that fills him. His flashlight falls from his hands as he throws himself toward the stairs. His hands scrape along the wooden handrail, splinter drilling into his flesh.

He doesn’t care. His feet slip against the stairs, sending his kneecap crashing straight into the stone. He doesn’t care. He just wants to get away from the cellar, from the house, from the feeling of wrong, wrong, _wrong_ , that pierces through his middle like a spear, that seem to tear at his insides. He wants to escape. He doesn’t care how. He wants to escape.

Yixing is stumbling into a run in front of him. A metallic clang rings out into the corridor as his flashlight hits the wall, and the echo seems to reverberate through the entire house, seems to strike against Kyungsoo’s eardrums like a sledgehammer, seems to ring through his head like an explosion.

His body slams into the wall as the corridor turns, but the icy fear running through his veins stops him from feeling any of it. His feet slip against the floor as he resumes running, his arms scrambling as if reaching for something to pull him forward, to help him get out of the house quicker.

The corridor seems to stretch out in front of them, growing and growing and growing. The flickering light, dark, light, dark as they run past the windows blinds him, the moonlight like a wave of ice each time he passes through it.

Yixing casts an eye back at him, face white, eyes wide, and goes unnaturally still.

Kyungsoo skids to a halt, staring at his boyfriend in front of him. The moonlight bathes them both, an abyss of blackness between the two of them. A window for them each, as if they have been trapped by the light.

Yixing says nothing, his eyes so wide Kyungsoo can see the white around the irises as they drill into him. His mouth is open, but he barely seems to be breathing. Kyungsoo’s lungs ache in his chest, struggling to pull in enough air through the sheer panic rushing through him.

Why did Yixing stop? What could cause him to stop? And why did he stop too? Why weren’t they running? Why weren’t they trying to get away? Why wasn’t he running?

Why was he staring at him like that?

He gasps, struggling to get enough air, tries to force the question out of his mouth.

Yixing shifts. Slowly, oh so slowly, he extends a leg back, tries to shift his weight onto it, tries to back away from Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo takes a heavy step forward. Don’t leave him. He doesn’t want to be alone!

“DON’T MOVE!” Yixing screams, a shrill screech that fills the corridor. The silence that follows is almost louder, would have been, had it not been for the one, rasping breath coming from the end of the corridor.

And suddenly Kyungsoo realizes Yixing isn’t staring at him. He is staring at something behind Kyungsoo.

It’s like ice, the feeling of eyes on the back of his neck. The acute awareness that there is something behind him, something that had followed them out of that cellar. It chills him to the core, freezes his lungs in his chest, stops them from working, makes his whole body tight and cold, oh so cold, with panic.

He desperately wants to turn around, wants to know. How close is it? What is it? Is it getting closer? Why aren’t they running? He wants to run. He wants to leave. He doesn’t need to turn around to know he doesn’t want whatever is behind him to catch up with them. He doesn’t need to see to know they’re in danger.

But Yixing isn’t moving, and it’s as if his unresponsiveness has paralyzed Kyungsoo. The other is just staring, unblinking, at what’s behind him. Kyungsoo chokes, the panic spilling out of him, and his chest heaves with a desperate sob.

The heavy thud of a footstep echoes through the corridor.

Yixing’s eyes lock with Kyungsoo’s. He’s blurry, tears clouding him. The shake of his head, so minute it’s barely there, makes the corridor rattle with another rasping breath.

And then Kyungsoo knows. He knows whenever they move, so does it. He knows that they’re trapped, that he can’t not move. That he can’t stop his hands from trembling. That he can’t stop the shuddering of his breath. That he can’t stop the building sobs. He can’t stop whatever is behind him from finally reaching him.

Yet he can’t move. He just can’t. He can’t even close his eyes, no matter how much he wants to. He can’t. All he can do is listen. Hear the rattling breath come again, a little bit closer than last time.

The thud of another footstep makes him twitch, and the second footstep that follows a moment behind has the first tears fall from Yixing’s eyes. They’re still drilling into Kyungsoo, and Kyungsoo can see his own desperate gaze reflected back in them.

The breath rattles again, ecases Kyungsoo in a tomb of fear, and Yixing’s eyes leave his. Kyungsoo wants to beg them to return, to plead and pray and scream until he’s not alone anymore. Because he can’t close his eyes, and Yixing is staring at the _thing_ behind him, and Kyungsoo has never seen terror like that before.

It’s helpless, hopeless and endless.

Kyungsoo sobs.

The thing rattles, takes another footstep.

He wishes Yixing would just look at him. Please. Tell him it’s not real. Stop staring. Tell him it’s not real. If he doesn’t stare, there is nothing there. Please. Please just stop staring.

He doesn’t know how long he stands there, drowning in the knowledge of what he doesn’t know. Drowning in the feeling of eyes on the back of his neck, in the sound of raspy breaths and the thuds of footsteps drawing ever closer.

Every breath, every move, and the _thing_ gets closer. It looms behind him. Unknowingly large, unseeingly there, but undoubtedly close. It makes the floorboards creak behind him, makes light from the windows shift as it moves, torturously slow, every motion designed to remind him that it’s the thudding of his own heart that spurs it on, that it’s the inescapable sobs of terror that moves it forward.

It’s his fault. All his fault. And he can’t stop.

Time continues to pass, and it should get better, because it always does. But it doesn’t. There is no release from the grips of fear, the ice that pierces through the hole in his chest, the horror in Yixing’s eyes.

There is no escape.

Something tickles the back of his neck. A breath.

Yixing sobs.

The air drags around his neck. An inhale. It’s close, close enough Kyungsoo is sure that if he were to reach out, he would touch it. It’s right behind him. Right _there_. And with every shuddering breath he takes, the icy air grows ever closer. Millimetre by millimetre. Inch by Inch. It’s as if it’s feeding off of Kyungsoo’s breaths, off of his heat. It eats it up, sucks it out of him, icy touches pressed against the top of his spine.

Like a frozen scarf it wraps around his shoulders, tightens over his throat, until he can’t breathe. It’s as if the very air has frozen inside of him too, the black hole in his chest filled with snow. It aches. His chest is cramping, screaming for oxygen, but he can’t. He just can’t. Because if he does, it will get even closer, and closer and closer, until it can touch him, until it can take him away, until it can take Yixing too.

Yixing closes his eyes. Kyungsoo takes a shuddering breath. Please don’t leave him alone. Please. Please. Please.

Something brushes against his shoulder blades.

Like a spear, it pierces him with panic, more panic than he thought possible. He gasps, the pressure grows. Five distinct points.

Fingers.

He blinks, tears staining his cheeks. His pulse is thundering in his ears, drowning out any and all rational thought except for _fingers, fingers, fingers, fingers_. His entire being is reduced to those five points just below the junction of his neck, that pressure that shouldn’t exist.

They glide. Rasping against the rough material of his jean jacket. It echoes the rasping breath, the one that brushes against the back of his right ear now. Up, up, up. Until the first finger touches the bare skin of his neck.

He whimpers, like a wounded animal begging to be let out of its misery. But no one is there to save him. No one except for Yixing. Yixing, who opens his eyes once again, and clasps a hand over his mouth to stifle a scream.

His left shoulder is grabbed roughly, painfully. Long, long nails dig into the material of his shirt, scratches his neck. He can’t even scream. He wishes he could. But he can’t. He can only stare at Yixing, begging the other for help that he knows his boyfriend can’t provide.

The breath comes again. His bangs move with it. A slow raspy inhale, a heavy exhale, right by his ear. The fingers shift, pulls, as if they’re trying to pull him back.

Or pull someone closer to him.

He can see it moving, in the corner of his eye, a shape. A shape that wasn’t real until now. A shape he didn’t want to process, until now. A shape he couldn’t process, a shape he can’t process.

He could look over, to see it, but he can’t. He can’t. All he can do is feel the fingers tighten around his shoulder, feel the nail break his skin, ignore the blurry shape in his perifial. The one that grows and grows and grows.

Until he can’t ignore it.

It’s a quick flick of the eyes. Subconscious. Shattering. Ceasing.

An eye stares back at him. Blood shot, wide, dead. It drills into him, pierces through his pupil, like an orbitoclast breaking through his eye socket and into his brain, until he’s no longer there. Until he’s gone. Until someone else is standing there, staring their unmaking in the eyes.

“Kyungsoo!”

It’s Yixing. And it’s enough to make him tear his eye away. But not enough to forget.

He stops trying.

  
He sobs, tears running down his cheeks like rivers, shoulders jumping despite the hand still pushing down on his left one, despite the hand landing on his right one.

He screams as he feels the cold press of lips against his ear.

"Leave"

It’s not a whisper. Neither is it a scream. But it seeps into his very core as if it was poisonous gas, tainting him from the inside out. Like acid, it eats away at him, piece by piece, until he’s hollow.

The lips leave, and then the breath, and finally the hands.

He falls, head bouncing against the wooden floor. He screams. It doesn’t hurt. He can’t feel. It doesn’t hurt. He can’t stop screaming.

Yixing wraps his arms around him, forces him onto his feet, speaks things at him he can’t hear. He stumbles. He can’t see, tears clouding his vision. It doesn’t matter. He just screams.

They exit the corridor, exit the house, exit the yard. Somehow.

He screams, he can’t stop. He’s hollow. He can’t stop. He can’t.

He screams as the garden party they passed comes to find out what is happening, as the police show up, as they drive him home, as his mother wraps her arms around him, tear in her eyes asking a frozen Yixing what happened.

He screams until he can’t, until his voice gives up, until Yixing promises to never leave him alone again, to never drag him out to such a thing again, to never let him be hurt again.

They don’t sleep. They don’t say anything. Yixing wraps himself around Kyungsoo’s back, promises he’ll never let go, tries to melt some of the ice inside of him, tries to fill the hollowness they both feel with love.

It’s enough. Almost.

Because Kyungsoo can still see it, lurking just out of sight. And so can Yixing.

**Author's Note:**

> 


End file.
